The Corrupted Soul
by Deathstep
Summary: After a horror game gone wrong, Markiplier and his friends find themselves in a separate dimension with only one way back home. To make matters worse, not only are they stuck in a mansion and Huge is an understatement on how big it is, there's a demon hunting them down.
1. Prologue: The White Room

_He had no idea what was going on. All he could remember was waking up in a white room, with nothing but a light overhead occupying the room, except for him. Because of science, the light that radiated off the bright, white light was bouncing off the walls, reflecting off and hitting his eyes like a wall of pure white sunlight, stinging his eyes. He didn't know where he was, but didn't want to know either._

 _"H…Hello?" He called out. No response. Just as he let out the "O" part, he realised something._

 _"My… My breathing… WHY-HOW AM I NOT BREATHING?" He yelled as he put his hand towards his throat, wondering what the hell is going on. "Where am I? A-a-a-am I DEAD?"_

 _All he got was his own voice echoing back to him, seemingly acting as the only company he will ever have in this white room._

 _He pressed both his knees up to his eyes as he struggled to accept the reality of possibly being trapped in this white prison for the rest of eternity._

 _"No…" He thought._

 _"No…"_

 _Meanwhile..._

Silence. That's all Mark can hear for now. Just dead silence as he walked through the halls of wherever the hell he is. He had no idea where he was, but felt like that he was transported into a horror game. The walls were covered by an old, but antique blue wallpaper with exotic gold and fine patterns, but the colour turned greyish in some areas with age. This place possibly wasn't inhabited for ages. In fact, it was so old, the floor was creaky and loud with age, groaning every time Mark took a step. It was dark, but the torch he had in his right hand was enough to provide light for him to see a few feet ahead of him. Paranoia grew as he walked deeper and deeper into the maze, as his imagination ran wild over what could he hiding in the shadows, ready to strike any second and he'll be dinner. He shook his head. "No, Markiplier." He thought. "That's babyish, you're 27 now, not a baby." He reassured himself, but still, figments of what's left of that paranoia still toys with his brain.

Just as he thought that he was safe, something started vibrating in his pocket, and the second afterwards, a short, bell like ringtone broke the silence, startling him. Someone just texted him.

He yanked his iPhone out of his pocket, paranoia surging fear through his veins once again, and pressed the menu button, turning it on.

 _Unknown number._

 _Run._

His heart dropped at that moment as he stared at the glowing screen just big enough to fit in his palm. It felt like he was looking death right in the eye.

He snapped into a fight or flight response as he heard laughter in the distance. It wasn't the good kind, more like evil, sadistic laughter that belongs to a serial killer.

"FOUND YOU!" The voice was male, and sounded like it belonged to a man in his twenties. It was oddly familiar. Mark yanked his head behind him, catching sight of red, glowing orbs floating in midair. He shone his torch in that direction, and saw a man, about 20 years old, dirty blond hair and unkept beard with a gigantic and insane smirk on his face staring at him in the darkness. Oddly familiar. Mark almost fainted. As soon as the man took off speeding towards Mark, so did he, the groans of the floorboards underneath his feet speeding up as two pairs of feet started torturing the wooden planks. Mark shot through the corridors, swallowing a scream as he fled in fear for his life as insane amounts of adrenaline surged through his veins like the water jets of a blastoise. He didn't dare to look behind him, but when he looked ahead of him, his heart dropped.

Dead end.

Mark swore under his breath as he turned pale as the moon when he saw the wall trapping him between that demon, sealing his fate. The footsteps behind him stopped, and Mark turned around. There he was, standing there, smirking an evil smirk.

"Nice meeting you. Now it's time to die."

The moment he had those glowing red eyes shoot up at his face, Mark's eyes shot open.

"Was… Was that a dream?" He said out loud. Of course, it was apparent that it was a dream, he was in bed, snug as a bug in a rug, and the digital clock right beside him read: 3:41

"Okay, I need serious help, that was the third nightmare I've had in a week." He said, lying back down and closing his eyes as he tried to get to sleep.

What bothered him was the identity of the man who chased him, and why he seemed so familiar. After all, a person never forgets another persons face, and that man looked oddly familiar, despite the fact that he had never seen him in any of his horror games. He eventually fell asleep, ignoring the discomfort of his tongue as it begged for water.

Ignoring the uncomfortable pain in his bladder.

Ignoring the same figure from his dream standing at the foot of his bed, smirking his signature smirk as he watched Mark sleep.


	2. Chapter 1:Bob is dead

It started off with one eye after the other as Mark sat up in his bed, clearing his eyes from the heaviness of sleep. He had forgotten his dream already, and was ready to do some recording. He had another fan game made for him, and despite the fact that he had been bombarded by those for the past few years, he never got tired of them. This time it was called: Fallen Angels. Just the name was enough to hook Mark into it, and couldn't wait to get started. He turned the computer on, and dragged the white mouse over to the chrome icon, mouse smoothly gliding along the table. Just as he was about to search up Fallen Angels, a little pop-up at the corner of his screen saying that he had received a message from Wade. Curious as to what his friend had to say, Mark clicked on Skype, and a conversation popped up. "Hey" 'What's up Wade?'

"Nothing much, just that there is this really cool horror game that I thought we could invite some friends over to play."

'Cool, what's it called?'

"Matter of life or death."

Baffled by the sound of the name, Mark smiled. Guess the fan game would have to wait. 'What's it about?'

"Dunno…"

'Who're we gonna invite?'

"Well, It needs more than 4 players, so I've asked Jack, Aaron, Dan, Arin, and Bob, but Bob hasn't responded yet."

'Sure, we can play!'

"YouTube?" 'You bet!' Wade went offline. 'Sorry Mr. Game developer, guess this'll have to wait.' Mark smiled.

 _The shadows have been telling him that he's not good enough. That he's not good enough to do anything. They obviously didn't seem to like him, and when he said otherwise, they just ended up beating him into a pulp and insulted him even more viciously. What's worse, he's starting to believe them._

Later that night, around about 10 PM, Mark was on his computer, browsing twitter and laughing his face off at what his friends posted. The same popup appeared on Skype.

Wade.

'What the hell is wrong with him? Bob hasn't responded yet!'

"What?"

'It's been two days and he's still silent.'

Mark was just about to type in his response, when everything went black. Well, he was still conscious, but everything plunged into darkness. His world was a tranquil black the shade of charcoal. "Ugh, really? A blackout NOW?" He grumbled. Five seconds later, the lights flickered back to life, illuminating Marks world once again. "Huh, guess that worked." He was just about to turn the computer back on again when he froze in fear. During that five second blackout, somebody had stuck a sticky note on his window.

"Bob is dead."


	3. Chapter 2: The News

Mark stared in horror at the note stuck to the outside of his window, written neatly in blue ink. "Wh…What? IS THIS SOME KIND OF SICK JOKE?"

Silence.

"IF THIS IS, IT ISN'T FUNNY!"

Still Silence.

"IS ANYBODY EVEN THERE?"

Literally five seconds later, a loud banging broke the silence. The front door. Mark nearly jumped out of his skin, and was just standing there, staring at the direction the banging came from. The banging started again. Wondering what the hell to do, Mark immediately decided on the wisest thing to do. He crept out of his room, silent as a mouse as he sneaked down the corridors without making a sound, let alone letting anyone know he's there. When he reached the front door, he looked out the peephole, expecting to see a man in a hockey mask with a bloodstained machete.

However, instead, stood the exact opposite. A policeman.

The door unlocked with a soft click as the door opened, while the policeman stared in silence.

"You're him… YOU'RE HIM!"

'Uh… Did I do something wrong?'

The policeman didn't respond. He just stared at Mark with a gigantic smile on his face.

"Okay, calm down… Calm down…"

'Um… Are you okay?'

"AFTER I TELL YOU THE NEWS, CAN I GET YOUR AUTOGRAPH?"

'Sure, just come in and- Wait, WHAT NEWS?'

The policeman's mood changed immediately, from an ecstatic little child to a solemn, depressed look on his face. Mark immediately knew that something had gone wrong, and that feeling worsened when the policeman took his hat off his head and held it on his chest, looking down.

"I'm sorry Markiplier, I'm afraid that your friend Bob has been found in his house, dead."

Mark turned pale. The person who had stuck that sticky note must've been the killer. But still, he refused to tell him what he knew.

'How… How did he die?'

"He was found this evening, around 8 in his studio. We don't know how he died, but we do know that it's been over two days, and we found a note on his computer saying that any one of his friends will be next. But what's the scariest is the look in his eyes. He had his eyes open, and they were blank, but at the same time… filled with emotion if you know what I mean. They seemed to follow the police officers everywhere no matter where they are."

Mark was speechless.

"There hasn't been any sign of any other person in his house at the time of death, even if there was, it still wouldn't explain how the killer- If there was one- had been able to kill him. There were no wounds, and autopsy reports show that he wasn't poisoned. He just… Died."

Mark's heart sank to the bottom of his shoes. He didn't mind seeing his friends dead in video games, but… IRL? No way.

"Oh… I-uh… I don't know what to say." Mark said, getting a lump in his throat.

'I am so, so sorry.'

Silence.

'Well, I'm gonna go back to the station now-'

"No." Mark interrupted.

"Not without my autograph."

The day afterwards, Mark had run out of bread. Bobs funeral was in a few days, and had to get preparations done after he posted a video, telling his fans about the devastation. It was cold that day, around 14 degrees. Sure, to some people that's nothing, but Mark had gotten quite accustomed to the hot weather of LA.

Everything was going well, until he realised something.

He forgot to bring his wallet.

Just as he was about to turn back and get his wallet, something chilled him to the bone.

"Escuse me sir…"

Because of all the horror games he played, Marks mind immediately went to the worst case scenario. Adrenaline and fear froze him on the spot as he turned towards the dark alleyway that the voice came from.

"You need a few dollars, right?"

Mark was still silent and chilled to the bone.

A pre-teen girl walked out of the alleyway, nothing but skin and bones with pure white hair and eyes that shade of blue that can make people get lost swimming in that never-ending void. The only clothes she was wearing was a dirty white dress reaching to her knees.

Despite the fact that she looked relatively harmless, Mark still had an uneasy feeling.

The girl tossed a few coins to Mark, and he caught them effortlessly.

"So Mark." She smiled.

"I see you got my note."


	4. Chapter 3: The Screams

Mark wasn't quite sure if he had heard her correctly. If she said what he thought she'd said, then he'd take a run for it screaming BLOODY MURDER at the top of his lungs.

"I…I'm sorry?"

'I see you got my note.'

"Mark was even more terrified now, frozen on the spot and had no idea what to do. He was just about to turn and take a run for it when the girl stopped him.

"Don't worry, It's not what you think, I'm simply a messenger."

'From who?'

"That, I cannot tell."

'H-How did you know that Bob was dead then?'

"Like I said, that I cannot tell."

'You said you were a messenger right?'

"Yep."

'Was that the only message you were sent to send to me?'

"No, I have another message."

'What is it?'

"He's coming for you."

'Who's coming?' Mark was getting more scared now.

The girl just smiled.

"See for yourself. All I'll tell you is that he's an old friend of yours. My name's Moonlight by the way."

Moonlight giggled before turning on her heel and walking into the dark alleyway, silent as if she was never there.

Marks heart froze as he shook it off, and started running towards the shops, wanting to get his bread quickly.

"Okay, that was weird." Mark was close now.

"Old friend? Who?" He thought to himself as he continued running.

"It better not be Darkiplier."

 _He can't see a single bit of light in this situation. Cramped white room, shadows taunting him, this is pure hell. Despite the pure white room, he still couldn't see any light in this place._

 _Until he heard a voice in his mind, a small, young, fragile voice that might be the only comforting thing about this hell._

 _"Don't listen to them."_

By the end of that long day, Mark laid in bed, still trying to process everything that was going on. His lights were turned off, the only source of light being the moon shining through the window by his bed. All this was a disaster, first Bobs death, now whatever killed him was coming for Mark now. He tried to convince himself that all this was just a dream.

Just a dream.

Just a dream.

Just a-

"OH, BITCH I'M FABULOUS, OH, BITCH I'M FABULOUS!"

Mark still didn't know why he had that as his ringtone. A violin playing in the background wasn't very manly. But still, it still somehow managed to calm him down. Without looking at who called, he answered.

"Hello, Mark speaking-"

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARGH!"

"WOAH! WHAT'S GOING ON?

" **AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARGH!** "

"HELLO? WHO IS THIS?"

Boop Boop Boop

"He… Hung up…"


	5. Chapter 4: Sunday

"Damnit, damnit damnit damnit…" Mark groaned as he tried to open the door, only thing sealing him inside with that… Freak…

"Come on Mark… Don't be shy, we're gonna have a fun time…"

'WHAT'S THAT INNUENDO SUPPOSED TO MEAN?' Mark screamed as he continued jerking the door handle back and forth. This was NOT good news. These days, Mark had dreamed about pretty much nothing but that red eyed blond demon that was hunting him down. If this goes on, he might need to seek professional help. 'DAMNIT, IT'S NOT BUDGING!'

"Don't worry…" The demon said, followed by a shrill sound like metal colliding with metal. Like a sword being unsheathed.

"It'll all be over soon…"

Everything went red as Mark bolted upright in bed, panting.

It was 2:20.

"Fifth. Fifth nightmare." Mark groaned as he collapsed on his back, staring at the wall while being surrounded in darkness.

It started on Sunday night, right after Mark stopped recording Happy Wheels. Sure, you might say: "Oh, he must've gotten nightmares for playing so much happy wheels!" But you're wrong.

Does happy wheels include a demonic 20 year old who kills people for a living?

I don't think so.

Well, maybe the creators of the levels are, but I can't guarantee that.

On Sunday night, Mark found himself at the door of a mansion. It was large, so large that large would be an understatement. The only thing around it was a forest, giving a more macabre atmosphere. What stood out most was the colour. White. Snow white. Possibly the whitest shade of white that has ever existed. Heck, even when the sky was dark and the moon was hidden behind clouds, that shade of white still stood out like a star. The creepy thing was, all the windows were boarded up with mahogany wood, preventing Mark from looking inside. The only thing he had was a torch, which he shone at everything, almost as if he was playing FNAF 2.

A pair of eyes pierced onto Marks back, sending shivers all over his body. Immediately, Mark turned around, flashing his torch at every direction, fearing someone might be there.

No one.

"Ha… Must be my imagination…"He laughed.

And we all know that anybody who says that in a horror movie is fucked.

Even Mark knew that.

The moment Mark turned back to the door, he jumped.

 _Something_ moved.

It was swift, brushing by his eyes like a breeze before disappearing into darkness. For a while, Mark stared, glued to the spot as he stared at the door, dread occupying his heart.

"The hell?"

When he finally summoned up the courage to see what it was, he shone his flashlight around the area where he thought he saw the shadow rush by. Nothing.

"Mark…" A whisper broke the silence, sending shivers down Marks spine. "Come in…"

He subconsciously obliged as he pushed the door open, peeking inside. It was pitch black, Mark couldn't see even a few inches in front of him. Just solid darkness. Shivers travelled down his spine when he felt something warm and wet on his ear, with a slight pressure. He panicked and immediately turned around, heartbeat speeding up slightly, only to see nothing. Even when he shone his torch in that direction, still nothing. He put his hand over his ear, checking if there was still anything there. Nothing. Just something wet clinging onto his ear, like someone had licked his earlobe.

"Ugh…" He cringed as he shone his torch around the room, examining his surroundings. It was oddly antique, with dull blue wallpaper covering the walls, exotic gold patterns decorating the canvas. Occasional gold lining acted like a border around the wallpaper, while gold pillars supported the roof here and there. It was like a picture frame.

A grand staircase sat in the centre of the room, leading upwards to the upper floor, connecting to a hallway that disappeared into the sides of the room. Everything had a dark feel to it. If it wasn't gold, it was mahogany. Very dark mahogany. The floor was covered in dust, rough with age, like sandpaper.

The sensation of eyes digging into his back shook Mark to the bone, as he looked everywhere for a sign of life.

Nothing.

He looked behind him, thinking something was there, but he saw something worse in its place.

The door had disappeared into a wall.

"What the hell?" Mark whimpered, his voice echoing through the empty mansion. "The door was right there!"

' _No…'_

Marks heart Jerked as he turned around, looking for a source of sound. That sound did NOT come from him. Mark was creeped out now.

 _'No way… out…'_

"WHO THE FUCK ARE YOU?" He screamed, panicking as his knees trembled and heartbeat pulsed until he can't take it anymore. He trailed the torch in all direction, left, right, up, everywhere.

He almost fainted when his torch revealed a shadowy figure in its range, looking down, as if mourning. He screamed as his heartbeat quickened and his breathing became rapid. He can feel the adrenaline surging through his veins, sheer panic confining him to the spot, mind spinning as he stared at whatever the heck that was, panicking.

'Me?' The figure rasped, moving his head as if looking up at him. He felt the same glare on his figure, and his instinct told him that he should take a run for it.

His heart stopped when the figure looked up, a glowing cheshire grin appearing on his face, from ear to ear. It wasn't like the cheshire cat, looking like it knows something you don't, but rather like it has an inhumane desire to rip you to shreds. Its eyes opened, revealing glowing ruby jewels in the dark, adding a more demonic effect to the silhouette, chilling Mark to the bone. What freaked him out wasn't the terrifying shade of red, but rather the emotionless look they had in them, along with a extreme loss of sanity.

'You'll find out when you meet me in hell.'

The figure lunged at Mark, giving him a terrifying close-up of his terrifying face for a second before everything went black.

"Damnit." Mark groaned as he sat up in bed as the clock read 5:19. "I hate Mondays."

 _He had already gotten used to all the things the shadows have been whispering to him, including the young fragile voice whispering reassuring things into his ear, contrasting the insults that the shadows kept on whispering._

 _"Don't listen to them, you're better than what they believe."_

 _'YOU'RE A WORTHLESS PIECE OF SHIT.'_

 _"You've made a great impact to the world."_

 _'YOU SHOULD JUST DIE ALREADY.'_

 _He just smiled._

 _'Listen girl, thanks.'_


	6. Chapter 5: Matter of life or death

"Dude, have you got much sleep at all?" Wade half shouted at Mark over the webcam.

Honestly, anyone would say that after they've seen him. He had bags underneath his drooping, dull eyes sunken with insomnia. His red hair was messy and he had a hard time preventing his eyelids from collapsing. Every single time he tried to get to sleep, he'll get shaken awake by nightmares. Because of this, he couldn't get much sleep.

'No.' Mark groaned as he tried hard not to fall asleep.

'You should get some sleep Mawk, you're not looking too good.' Jack said over his side of the webcam, worried.

'Yeah, oi agree.' Aaron's british accent added to the collection of voices.

'Still, why haven't you gotten much sleep?' Danny questioned.

'Just can't.' Mark lied.

'Well, I'd recommend taking some sleeping pills, they always work for me.' Arin's voice said beside Danny.

'Thanks, I appreciate the advice.'

"Anyways, everyone ready?" Wade asked everyone, where everyone simultaneously replied: "Yep." While Mark just replied with an exhausted "Yes…"

Everyone clicked on the game downloaded on their computer, and Jack smiled.

It came to a title page, where it was pitch black, not revealing much except for a grey silhouette standing in the dark, positioned in a way that it looked like it was staring right at the player, and a text at the top of the page reading: "Matter of life or death" in grey, while the word "Life" was written in white, "Death" was written in a much darker grey. In the centre of the page, was a button that said: "Play" Written in a red times new roman font that gave Mark the chills for some reason.

"Okay, now THIS is creepy."

'Shaddup Danny, don't be such a baby.'

"Well, Arin, you're being a jerk."

'Shaddup.'

One by one, each YouTuber did their intro's, and they all pressed play.

Mark swore that the millisecond after he pressed play, the silhouette had glowing red eyes.

It came to a screen with a message.

ENTER CODE

It was written in the same font as the Play button, with a text box beneath it.

"Uh… What's the code?" Aaron asked to nobody in particular.

'Relax, I got it, I'm the host. It's DKPV81216135.'

"Okay? What the hell?" Jack joked, typing it in.

Immediately, it came to another screen, with three buttons, each one looking like it was for a type of class, like in Overwatch or TF2.

Aviator, Tank, Sniper. written in white against silvery blue hexagons.

"Guys, I'm an Aviator. Sounds cool." Mark exclaimed as he clicked on the aviator button.

Moments later, everyone else had chosen their appearance and class.

"Everyone ready? Let's go." Wade said, without even waiting for anyone to respond.

Around thirty minutes later, they were up to the boss fight. The game was pretty short, but Mark learned to look past quantity and look for quality. The quality was AMAZING, the graphics were god-standard and felt like virtual reality. It was one of those realistic games like Overwatch or TF2, and honestly, it was up to that standard.

The boss itself looked like a normal person, save for his blazing and glowing red eyes. He was tall, around six feet, with midnight black hair that matched his ripped hoodie. Apparently, He-or it- was insanely hard to beat. He was a pyrokenetic demon-like thing who hurled glowing balls of phoenixes at the gang every ten seconds.

"KILL HIM KILL HIM JACK BEHIND YOU" Arin screamed at the top of his lungs, so loud that it'll surprise Mark that Danny didn't cringe in pain.

Right behind Jack was a phoenix like fireball, glowing so brightly that Jack had a hard time seeing.

Jack didn't even have time to react when Marks sprite picked him up, and soared away from it.

The aviator was exactly what it sounds like, it's a class that can fly. Their speed was higher than everyone else's, and they're even faster mid-flight.

"Great! Thanks! It's distracted, You left us an opening!" Arin smirked as he and Danny aimed for the boss.

This time, Danny and Arin were playing on separate computers, and while Danny was a sniper, Arin was a tank. Like the aviator, the Tank and sniper were pretty much what they had sound like, The tank was the strongest, highest defence, but its low speed was the one dragging it back. The sniper was equipped with a bow and arrow, fires massive damage if aimed at certain parts of the body, only thing holding it back was its defence.

The boss took several damage, while Wade swooped in from the air to attack.

Wade the aviator managed to break through the boss' defence and weaken it slightly.

"Mawk! drop me!" Jack yelled as Aaron the tank aimed and shot. Mark did as he was told, and while Jack was falling, he managed to hit some weak spots on the boss' back. He was a sniper after all.

The boss glowed, radiating a fiery red colour, while Wade fell silent.

"THAT DOES NOT LOOK GOOD!" He yelled. "GUYS GET OUT OF THE WAY!"

The floor reflected rays of red, before the demon was even moving. Literally the following second, the boss attacked, following the lines of those reflected rays.

Mark didn't get hit, nor did he think they did much damage. However, Aaron screaming that he's dead proved otherwise.

Aaron was at half health.

The battle was just getting real now.


End file.
